Aw, so many mixed reviews on whether Kurt should fight or not. Maybe we should place bets. :) LOL. Nah. We'll see how it goes from here. "What Not To Wear" and the hosts do not belong to me. Enjoy, my FF friends! (P.S. So sorry this is so late. You know how people joke about having a mental breakdown? Well, I had a real one. But this isn't about me, just wanted to explain myself.)
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Last time on "Try Me"
"I want to send out an invitation for you. You and me. Three weeks from now, Hyde Park at six in the evening," Karofsky growled.
"And this is an invite for?" Blaine said, waving Kurt away from taking the phone.
"For me to kick your ass," Karofsky said.
"Oh, how sweet! Are you going to train? Are you going to do a Rambo music montage showing you getting strong? I accept asshole. And don't think you can trick me by making me walk into a trap. I'll have my own people there. See you then, asswipe," Blaine said and hung up the phone.
"He actually set up a date to fight?" Kurt asked incredulously.
"He did indeed," Blaine said seriously. He was already thinking of how he would need to step up his own workouts, just so he could make sure Karofsky couldn't surprise him.
"I want to do it," Kurt announced.
"What?" Blaine asked, not sure he knew what Kurt meant.
"I want to be the one to fight Karofsky," Kurt said, his face serious and sure. "I want to take him down."
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"I want to be the one to kick his ass," Kurt repeated.
"What?" Blaine demanded heatedly for the second time.
"I know you can hear me, Blaine. What's the problem? We talked about how you were going to teach me self-defense," Kurt said, irritated.
"First, there is a huge difference between self-defense and street fighting. Like complete opposites. Second, you are just now getting over some very serious injuries. Why would you want to risk adding new ones? Third, Karofsky is at least three time your size. Fourth, as your boyfriend, no," Blaine finished firmly.
"Wow, I didn't think you'd ever get through that list. Boiling it down, you think I can't do it and, let me guess, you're going to try and forbid me?" Kurt's eyes were narrowed.
"Kurt, I just…,"
"Come on, Blaine, tell me the truth. Don't beat around the bush," he said, starting to feel angry towards his boyfriend.
"Fine. No, I don't think you can do it and yes, if my opinion matters at all to you, then I'm asking you to please not do this," Blaine said quietly.
"Couldn't come out and say you forbid me, huh?" Kurt sneered. "This is my fight, Blaine. David is the one who treated me like shit. He was the one to rape me and beat me up. It was my head that he would slam into the stove while I was cooking because dinner was taking too long. It was me who bled from the ass time after time because he fucked me too hard without any preparation. It was me who was told day after day, week after week, that I wasn't good enough. That I was a worthless piece of shit. That I was someone nobody would ever care for. That I am stupid, ugly, worthless, pathetic, a piece of shit," Kurt shouted.
"Enough!" Blaine roared.
Kurt stared at him for a minute before responding, his voice frustrated and angry.
"What, hearing what I went through making you feel bad, Blaine? What do you think it did to me on a daily basis, huh? And now I don't deserve a chance to avenge myself. Now I get to sit on the sidelines like some prissy little bitch who can't do anything for himself, can't fight his own fight? I don't think so. But thank you, Blaine. Thank you for confirming that I am not worth anything. Lock the damn door on your way out," Kurt said and walked out of his dorm, slamming the door behind him.
Blaine stood there, in shock, staring at the door. That conversation had gone way south of where he'd intended it to go. He'd only wanted to protect Kurt, let him know the real danger of getting into a fight with someone like Karofsky. Someone who was known to love fighting dirty. If Kurt had let him finish speaking, he would eventually have gotten around to saying that, yes, he would teach Kurt to fight. He still didn't want Kurt to, but he understood. That's what he'd wanted to say. He got it. He'd gone through his share of fights to prove who he was, that he was tough and deserved to be treated like a human. But he hadn't worded it right.
He paced back and forth, wondering just where he'd gone wrong. Then he stopped, Kurt's words coming back to him. Kurt had used the past tense when talking about the nightmare of his time with David. But then he had said 'I am stupid, ugly, worthless, pathetic, a piece of shit… not worth anything'. Present tense. He still believed all of those things about himself. Blaine had worked so hard to let Kurt know how much he mattered, how beautiful he is. Obviously, the damage that Karofsky had done, went much deeper than Blaine himself would be able to undo.
Walking through to Kurt's bedroom, he walked to his desk and started looking. After a moment of sifting through the papers and books, he found what he was looking for. A small brown phone book. On the cover was Kurt's handwriting. 'In case I lose my phone… Again!' Blaine smiled. Flipping through, he found the number he was searching for. He entered it into his phone and replaced the little book, running his fingers lightly over Kurt's handwriting. Sighing he looked around, simply taking in the scent and aura of Kurt. Finally, he left the dorm, locking the door behind him and headed home. His heart felt a little empty without having Kurt's love seeing him out the door.
. . . . . . .
Kurt walked around the halls of the dormitory, wishing he'd thought to bring a coat, so he could go outside without freezing. Mercedes hadn't responded to his request to come and visit yet, but there was no way he was going back to his dorm room yet. He thought he knew Blaine. He thought Blaine saw him as capable and strong. All through the healing process and beyond, Blaine had rained compliments and praise down on him. Now, when it was time to test it, now when he had a chance to redeem himself to the very demon spawn who had caused it all. Now Kurt wasn't enough.
Well, that was bullshit. He'd hire himself a personal trainer first. Maybe find the wrestling team and hire a kickboxer. Kurt had always had strong legs, he'd proved it when he was on the Cheerios in high school. Dancing around the house and yoga had kept him flexible and given him lean muscles over the years. He could do it. Three weeks was plenty of time to get himself ready, toughened up a bit, learn a few tricks. Then he could take Karofsky down. He was already sure he was faster than the other guy. Bigger or not, that had to be something in his favor.
Kurt's phone buzzed.
Sure, baby, come on over – Mercedes
Whispering thanks, Kurt walked the short trip over to Mercedes dorm and walked in.
"Hey, Kurt, what's going on?" Mercedes asked, coming over and giving him a hug.
Inhaling the warm, sweet scent of his best friend, Kurt just stood there for a minute, taking in the love she exuded.
"Aw, babe, what is it? Huh?" She finally asked, leaning back and putting her hand to his cheek, her large dark eyes concerned.
"Cheesecake first. Talk later?" Kurt asked, giving her a tremulous smile.
"Of course, why didn't I think of that?" Mercedes said with a wink. Going to the fridge she got the half-eaten cheesecake from the fridge and two forks. They never bothered with plates. It was unnecessary at this point in their friendship.
They sat next to each other on the tiny love seat Mercedes had and watched What Not To Wear, laughing at all the 'before' videos of the people on the show. Kurt would then comment on the 'after' clothing, giving his almost professional opinion on whether it really suited the person or not. He enjoyed having the knowledge he'd worked so hard to learn over the last three years.
Taking another bite of the delicious cheesecake, he realized he could see himself in Clinton Kelly's place, helping people find simple pieces of cloth that could change their lives and see themselves in a different light. That is what he wanted to do with his career. Bring the beauty out of a person simply by changing their clothes. He knew he had outfits that made him feel powerful or beautiful or even intellectual. Even if none of it was true. If he wore those clothes, they became an armor between him and the rest of the world. Things wouldn't bother him as much.
After another show and finishing off the cheesecake, Mercedes turned the TV off and turned to him.
"What's got you down, sweetie? I didn't even know you were back in the dorms."
"I'm only back for a week," he told her. "I wanted to prove to myself that I could make it without living in fear of David. Now, though, I don't know. We had a pretty big fight earlier and I don't know if it's something we can move past."
"What happened?" she asked, taking his hand.
He explained as much as he could, telling her how he wanted to be the one to take David down. It was his right as the injured party.
"Kurt, you know I love you, right? For, what, going on seven years now? I know the strength you have, physically, mentally, spiritually. I also know your weaknesses. Sweetie, I think Blaine might be right about this one," she said softly. Holding her hand out as he was about to retort, she stopped him. "Blaine is thinking the best for you, baby, that's all. David has beat the living shit out of guys twice his size because he fights dirty. He'll be punching and smacking and then pull a knife and stab the guy. He usually wears gloves to hide the brass knuckles he uses. Kurt, there's a story from last year about a guy who got hit so hard in the head that he went into a coma and eventually died. Karofsky's dad is a good lawyer and managed to get David off with no charges. No witnesses, you see. Nobody wanted to come against Karofsky."
Kurt sat there staring at her, his eyes wide and disbelieving. "How could I not know anything about this? I was with David for years."
"Kurt, I think you did know, baby. I think you pushed it to the edges of your mind so you didn't have to consider the fact that your boyfriend, the one person you thought could give you affection, was capable of murder. It would make it that much harder to pretend to love him, wouldn't it?" she said, her dark eyes wise beyond her years.
"Oh my god," Kurt said, laying his head back against the sofa. "I did tend to many bloody knuckles for him. I never heard about the guy in the coma, that is just horrifying. I let that monster touch me," Kurt gasped, turning a scary shade of white and green.
"Hey now, no vomiting on my sofa," Mercedes warned gently. She handed him his glass of water and told him to sip slowly.
After a while, he felt better. At least his stomach did. He still couldn't believe he'd been in bed with a potential killer. Shaking his head, he decided to change the subject. "You've convinced me I should move back into Blaine's. Maybe even sooner than a week. Maybe right now," he said, thinking deeply. He definitely didn't want to be back in that dorm room knowing what he knew now.
"I think you're making the right choice, baby," Mercedes said. "Besides, an apartment over a dorm room? Hell yeah!" she laughed.
"No kidding," he said, joining her laughter.
He left soon after, going to his dorm quickly to pack up as many of his belongings as he could. Luckily, even though he'd lived there three years, he hadn't accumulated that much, other than clothing. Lots of clothing. He packed all he could into his messenger back, two spare backpacks, and a rolling suitcase. With something akin to shock, he looked around and realized he was done packing. He was leaving all of the bedding. There was no way he wanted any memory associate with that bed and blankets. Blaine had a perfectly wonderful comforter. The only thing left to take care of was the cheap set of dishes and pans he'd purchased his freshman year. That and the food that he didn't even want to look at. Throwing all of the kitchen items into several garbage bags, he made a quick trip to the dumpster outside. Then he went back up, gathered his belongings, and left the room.
The Resident Advisor was on his way out and Kurt explained that he had moved out and gave him his key. The RA looked irritated and reminded him to call the dorm advisor in the morning to make sure he was no longer charged for the room. Kurt just smiled and thanked him, heading out to his car.
By the time he made it, his arms were shaking from the load. But he didn't care. He had determined, during his packing expedition, to make up with Blaine. Regardless of how angry he'd been, Blaine really had spoken out of love. If he knew the side of Karofsky that Mercedes had shared, then Kurt owed him thanks and not anger. He could admit that he was wrong.
With a lighter heart, he drove to Blaine's apartment, hoping he was home. He didn't want to talk on the phone or text. This was something he wanted to talk about in person. Pulling into the parking lot, he found a spot in the visitor parking and grabbed all of his bags. He wanted the sight of him to make a statement to Blaine.
Lugging it all to Blaine's door, he knocked, his stomach twisting with nerves.
The door opened and Blaine stood there, shocked. "Kurt? What? What is all this?"
"I'm moving in," Kurt stated. "If you'll still have me that is. Which I'm hoping you do because I already packed my entire dorm and turned in my key. It'll be a pain in the ass to get it all…,"
Blaine slammed into him, taking Kurt's face and kissing him passionately. "Oh, baby," he said, "I am so sorry about earlier. I had no right to make you feel as crappy as I did. Please forgive me."
Kurt kissed him again. "I'll forgive you if you tell me I can move in so I can put all these bags down. They're really quite heavy."
Blaine laughed and took several of the bags. "Of course! My home is your home, always, sweetheart," he said, excited.
Kurt laughed with him, feeling lighter than he had all day. Walking into the apartment, he was about to talk about closet space again, when he suddenly dropped his bags.
"Kurt, I meant to call you and let you know," Blaine said apologetically, sharing a glance with his guest.
"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked the person sitting there, his stomach plunging.
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Who could it be? I hope you enjoyed this. It was half written for the longest time and now I've finally finished it. I'll be getting back to regular posting now that I'm only half crazy again. ;) Reviews keep me sane! Sorta…